And we all call each other “bat shit crazy,” without the realization that we’re all one in the same, just slaying different demons or entertaining different angels. Few seem to stop and take accountability for where they, too, have been. And, I am guilty today.
I don’t know what it is that threw me over the edge. Perhaps I saw my mirror reflected back at me and out of fear, I regressed into the typical, yet archaic, tactics from others’ past reactions to my experiences.
I need to find a better way to handle when those closest to me experience what psychiatry dubs as ‘delusion and psychotic states’ and what we, on the wayward side call, ‘heightened states or spiritual emergencies.’ There comes a point in your life that you know yourself all to well, not to know better when your calling presents itself, front and center, and in more ways than one.
Usually, I don’t challenge the distorted thoughts. I let them slide, in the hopes that things will smooth over, or because I know I shouldn’t judge as I have been there on many occasions myself and wish people would have treated me in this manner. But, it never gets better. It usually gets worse.
Sitting there like an angel on someone’s shoulder doesn’t do much other than heighten the delusion or distorted thought … leading to a landslide of destruction. On the flip, playing the devil’s advocate in the hopes of reasoning doesn’t bode well either, as you suddenly become the enemy. It’s a tricky balancing act.
Who’s to say it is delusional to begin with?
Therein lies the question of the hour.
I was able to calm myself down long enough to apologize and briefly explain where I was coming from. But it wasn’t all I wanted to say, nor was it really what I wanted to say at all. Because, truth be told, I want to believe her. If believing in her can spark something deep within me to believe in anything that stops nothing short of magic, then I’m all in, because, quite frankly, I feel numb.
And maybe that, right there, is what scared me so deeply. I saw my desire to feel something more standing in front of me and simultaneously played the tape out to yet another round of institutional stays and forced treatment (although in reality, I am keenly aware of alternatives now with the shared wealth of fresh knowledge pouring out from all over the world).
Whether or not I desired some sort of rekindling of my spirit, something stopped me from believing today in that moment. Fiercely. And as clearly as I see the fences that are protecting the dunes on the shoreline in front of me now, I also see my feet parted on either side of that proverbial fence between disorder and spirit-led magic. Yet again, caught red-handed, holding on to the shame that comes from not practicing what I preach. Either way, jumping the line holds quite a bit of shame on either side.
Perhaps I am meant to be right where I am, dangling in this precarious position until I educate myself enough to truly become a powerful advocate for change, or at the very least learn how to rest more comfortably in the unfamiliar. I am a prime candidate, considering how many times I have leaped off the edge into that vast unknown. Upon re-entering the Earth’s atmosphere, after long psychotic breaks, I am left with residual awareness, that usually leads to more in-depth research, which inevitably leads to more rabbit holes, so on and so forth until it is right back to the beginning. Begin again.
I needed to write this out. And I thank you for reading something that may or may not make much sense to you. I needed to find the root of my reaction today to a friend in crisis. It was anger, soaked in fear. And the only thing I feared was where was I going to take this next, as I saw myself staring straight back at me.
Thanks be to those above for awareness and clarity!